Accidents Happen
by ardavenport
Summary: The healing power of the Force has a strong influence at the end of a mission for Obi-Wan.


**ACCIDENTS HAPPEN**

by ardavenport

* * *

Sometimes things don't go as expected.

Sometimes the stormy atmosphere is unfriendly to normal transport traffic. Sometimes the supplies and maintenance on a transport aren't always up to standard. And sometimes the wife and co-owner of the transport confronts her cheating husband and pilot with a weapon in the middle of a routine job ferrying a pack of three Republic dignitaries, their staffs, droids and families, four different trade consortium representatives and their staffs, droids and families, plus two Jedi Knights returning from a successful but mostly ceremonial mission from a secluded and posh location back to the spaceport to leave the planet on the ships they came on.

And sometimes these things happen at the same time.

Accidents happen.

Obi-Wan Kenobi knew he did the wrong thing when this collision of accidents happened. When he felt the warning in the Force he looked around for the source of the trouble. Instead of immediately acting.

He was almost twenty standard years of age, with years of training as a Jedi apprentice, but he had made a youngling mistake that left him with barely enough time to protect his head when the transport lurched from side to side and up and then plummeting, not just falling, but sickeningly accelerating downward. The over a hundred other previously dozing passengers, mostly strapped into their seats because of the inclement weather, screamed out sounds that many of them might have not made since they were younglings themselves, if then. But Obi-Wan and his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, had gotten up to inquire about the shouting coming from the forward cockpit, just before the transport alarmingly lost it's alignment with the planet's gravity.

Obi-Wan tried to roll with the impacts, up, down, sideways, but his focus bisected between his frantic need to reorient himself and his panic for survival.

His left hand brushed by a sharply rounded surface and he grasped an interior handle. The direction of acceleration changed again, stretching his body outward, but his grip firmed, the Force seeming to flow down from it through him, washing away any thoughts of what the transport might crash into in the next second.

The transport careened again and his boots and legs collided with the back of a seat and someone's shoulder. Now acting with the Force with pure intuition, he pulled his legs up and hugged the bulkhead when the direction suddenly changed again.

Under the screaming, he heard Qui-Gon's lightsaber activate, a squeal of energy on metal and the snapping hiss of the blade vanishing again. Obi-Wan reached up and grasped the handle with both hands, his head protected now between his upraised arms and the heavy folds of his robe.

The up-direction of the transport changed again, this time with the deck under it. Obi-Wan anchored himself to the handle on the outer bulkhead just before the sound of the transport crash slammed into him.

Impact.

He bounced up and then slammed down to the deck. Up, down, up down, up down. Each impact less than the last, passing through his body and the Force with no more damage than what was already done. The frame of the transport strained with a loud, hard-edged groan. Obi-Wan finally felt himself being pushed forward as they came to a stop.

Somebody was crying.

Obi-Wan uncurled his body and rolled on his side.

Pain shot through his right shoulder and hip, its intensity echoing throughout his body.

He wiggled his toes in his hoots. At least that did not hurt, but his right knee was badly bruised. Inhaling deeply hurt, but his breath also drew in the Force, strength and calmness.

"You crazy woman!!!" a voice, the transport pilot, shouted. "You almost got us all killed!!!"

Buckles clicked open and passenger voices began muttering. Some of them exclaimed outrage, others relief.

"It would be worth it if I could take you with me, you deceitful poodoo eater!!!" a woman, the transport steward, shrieked back.

Qui-Gon's voice intervened with words too low and sensibly spoken to be clearly heard from under a bunched up Jedi robe in the rear of the cabin, between the outer bulkhead and a row of seats with the feet of passengers by his head. They had come to a final and firm stop with solid ground under them.

Hissing from the pain, Obi-Wan pushed himself up and turned around toward the front of the transport. He drew in the Force as he moved, feeling it in his body, easing the pain, lessening the swelling and inflamation. Two people inarticulately exclaimed their displease as he pushed forward past them. He ignored the pain on his right side where he had taken the first impact when the transport went so badly off course.

Reaching the front row, he pushed past more people to get to the now open doorway to the forward compartment. Others tried to push their way there as well to, 'find out what the chazfrat had happened.' Obi-Wan turned his body sideways to slide past Governor Wesselp's round belly.

Captain Zwamu and his wife sat staring blankly at each other, sitting in the pilot and co-pilot's seats. The forward viewport was intact, but an enormous dark and twisted tangle of branches obscured it. A little daylight penetrated through the dark green and blue foliage pressed on its transparent curve.

"The emergency beacon has been activated," Qui-Gon announced, his long hair hanging down over his shoulder. He straightened from the controls, standing between the stuporous couple. "Someone should answer soon."

The tips of a large Dorgronas's jaw tusks bumped into Obi-Wan and he moved to the side into a corner with a navi-comp display where he could still see, his shoulder complaining when he pulled it back. Focus, he reminded himself. A few instrument panels were still active in the cockpit, the emergency batteries, the ventilation, the interior lights. People had filled the entry and more looked over the heads of those in the doorway to see what was going on.

"Judge Woop," Qui-Gon addressed the tall Quermian at the front of the crowd of anxious passenger, "perhaps you and your assistants can take Captain and Steward Zwamu to the cabin where they will be more comfortable."

Tight-lipped, Woop nodded; she and her stocky Paglamin assistants hustled the couple up out of their seats.

"On opposite sides of the cabin," someone in the back muttered. Neither Zwamu seemed to notice or care, both so thoroughly stunned by Qui-Gon's mind influence that they were hardly aware of their surroundings. Obi-Wan supposed that this was better than a blaster set on stun; if any of the other passengers had one they certainly would have used it, probably with a higher charge. This was the first time that anyone had seen them together when they were not sniping at each other.

A large yellow square began blinking and beeping on the darkened controls. Representative N'Kos darted forward and extended a long arm under Qui-Gon's hands and tapped the controls by the beacon.

"Heeessshh oh-oh-oh ch-chaaams!" he complained.

"The com is damaged, but we still have emergency power," Qui-Gon reassured as he clicked through the dead controls, but the com system remained dark. "They're receiving the signal, even if we can't answer." He straightened again. "They should find us soon."

"Hoh-oh-oh-oh leeeeeeeech-ch-ch aaaaazzz-aaaam," N'Kos said, slapping the inert sensor panel before retracting his arm.

"We have provisions for now. It shouldn't be long."

"Yeeeeeeeshhhh," N'Kos scoffed, pushing his way back out of the cockpit to the main cabin. The others followed, clearly disappointed. Obi-Wan stayed in the navi-comp corner in the rear and let them pass. But he winced when he put too much weight on his right leg. Qui-Gon noticed.

"It's alright. I just landed badly when the transport first went off course," he admitted as Qui-Gon put an arm over his shoulder.

"Mmmm, you should be more mindful, my young apprentice." Qui-Gon's hand only lightly grasped his bruised shoulder. Obi-Wan felt an echo of warmth from the Force where it touched.

Re-entering the main cabin, they saw many people standing amidst the rows of large seats, but the panic had died down, though the wails of some children sounded from the rear. There were a few droids among them, but they were for service and protocol, not very useful in an emergency. Representative Uragis and his staff seemed to have taken charge. Their voices could be heard in a knot of people watched by many others in their seats. Two people opened compartments in the back of the cabin, three others struggled with the ramp door. There was not a lot of room for much activity. The transport was designed mostly for ferrying 120 or so bodies from place to place.

"Master Jedi," a woman by the exit ramp called out, coming to them. "The exit's jammed and we've hardly found any tools and half of what's there is broken. Perhaps you could use your abilities to help us."

"We can try, but if it is badly damaged, we may not be able to close it again. It could get cold at night, if we're here that long. We still have battery power. The emergency beacon is operating, so help should arrive soon."

The woman frowned back at them, her green face grave. "before nightfall?"

"There may be more tools in the cockpit," he invited and she nodded and went forward to scavenge what she could.

They went to Uragis's group and Qui-Gon told them about the beacon, the emergency power and that they were better off staying together with the transport. Several people complained about that, but others expressed worry about wild creatures outside. There were injuries, but none life-threatening. They had fresh food and drink - - - the transport had been provisioned for its high level guests - - - but there was no astro-droid and the emergency supplies looked like they had not been updated in years.

Grumbling, most of the crowd went back to their seats to wait for rescue, but one man wearing a black and blue stole over his furry reddish-brown shoulders came to them.

"Master Jedi, could you come and look at our little girls?" he asked, his furry ears and long whiskers lowered respectfully. "We think that Creeana may have a broken arm and she and her sister are inconsolable. There is little for her in the medical case and my wife would not trust what is there. Nor I."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "We are not healers."

"I know, but Jedi have powers of the mind that could perhaps ease her pain. At least until help arrives?"

Obi-Wan looked up at his Master who nodded.

"We shall do what we can," Qui-Gon answered. They went to the rear of the cabin. Obi-Wan favored his un-bruised left leg as they went around the perimeter of main cabin. Worried eyes followed them from the seats.

In the open area in back the injured sat and lay down on the outer bench seats or on the floor. Someone had taken down the small tables to make more room. Obi-Wan saw mostly bruised, abused bodies, like his own, though a few people held bloody red and blue clothes. Two empty medical cases sat on the floor, their contents scattered.

"Ooooh!" A woman with pale body fur rushed up to them and thrust her wailing youngling into Obi-Wan's arms. Pain immediately shot through his right shoulder and he quickly shifted the weight to his left arm. "Can you help? Her sister's arm is broken and they won't stop crying."

Qui-Gon went to the youngling laying on a bench seat. She was maybe four or five standard years of age and identical to her sister; they were twins with pale fur and large blue eyes like their mother and dressed in the same yellow body bibs with a flower and speeder pattern on front. One arm was held to her body in an improvised sling. Obi-Wan followed and sat next to them, cradling the crying little youngling in his lap. Her bruises mirrored his own and he breathed in calmness from the Force.

Her sister's whimpers paused as she stared up at the large bearded Jedi Master settling by her head and looking down on her. She drew in a huge gulping breath and cried with gusto.

"Aaaah, the pain isn't so bad, little one," Qui-Gon told her, stroking her soft fur. "And your parents are here with you." The mother patted her youngling's stomach. The crying slipped into whimpers again.

Obi-Wan's youngling clutched his pale tunic, buried her face in his shoulder and cried on. Though he stroked her fur and urged her to relax, she seemed immune to his influence, divided by his own injury. He drew in the Force and his bruised hip and shoulder warmed with healing, not the angry swelling in the little girl's body. The one with the broken arm had quieted, her eyes closed, her mother close and Qui-Gon got up and came to her twin.

"Relax, young one." He touched her head where Obi-Wan's hand covered it. The crying subsided. At once he felt the pain in his hip and shoulder recede more. Focus. The little girl snuggled closer to him, a little cushion of fur clinging to his chest and shoulder. A hand touched him, stroking his hair for a moment, the fingertips last touching his Padawan's braid. Qui-Gon. Focus.

ooooo- thank-you master jedi -ooooo

ooooo- will it be long before they come to us -ooooo

ooooo- oh ive got this terrible pain in my back -ooooo

ooooo- it only works for the weak minded -ooooo

ooooo- oh -ooooo

ooooo- im hungry -ooooo

ooooo- ow -ooooo

ooooo- stuck here in the middle of the wilds no thanks to those Zwamus -ooooo

ooooo- i am sure there will be a full investigation later -ooooo

ooooo- dadda -ooooo

ooooo- for now we are in no danger -ooooo

ooooo- i thought i saw something moving outside -ooooo

ooooo- birds its birds -ooooo

ooooo- dadda -ooooo

ooooo- well that jedi isnt worried and the young ones fast asleep with the youngling -ooooo

ooooo- oooooooh what's that mommy -ooooo

ooooo- ow -ooooo

ooooo- whats that sound -ooooo

ooooo- mookins theyre coming for us -ooooo

ooooo- thats not an engine -ooooo

ooooo- uuuusssh-ch-ch eeeeeesh -ooooo

ooooo- ow -ooooo

ooooo- its too loud to be anything else -ooooo

ooooo- i didn't wreck it -ooooo

ooooo- rrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmbbbbbbblllllllllllll -ooooo

ooooo- if they land on us that would be a pretty piss poor rescue -ooooo

ooooo- rrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmbbbbbbblllllllllllll -ooooo

ooooo- theyre here -ooooo

ooooo- rrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmbbbbbbblllllllllllll - - kkkk-ssssssshhhhhh -ooooo

ooooo- get this door open -ooooo

ooooo- the whole frame is bent -ooooo

ooooo- we can cut through it now -ooooo

ooooo- heeelllloooo -ooooo

ooooo- hello -ooooo

ooooo- you took your time -ooooo

ooooo- can we go now -ooooo

ooooo- yes dear -ooooo

ooooo- mommy -ooooo

ooooo- here we go -ooooo

ooooo- weve still got more back here -ooooo

ooooo- ow -ooooo

"Obi-Wan."

He blinked his eyes open. Most of the people in the cabin were gone. There was only a knot of them at the forward ramp; it was open. He smelled the fresh air from outside.

A warm hand touched his cheek, forehead, pushing the hood of his robe back and then supported his shoulders as he sat upright and tugged his robe back into place. Qui-Gon. Sitting next to him on the bench seat. His hip and shoulder twinged a little, but as much from waking up as from the bruising.

"It is time to go," Qui-Gon told him as he stood and offered a hand to help him up. He accepted but glared up at the older man who raised his brows back at him.

"I did nothing, my young Padawan. I gave my attentions only to the youngling."

Obi-Wan's ire deflated as he sadly nodded to his Master. It was true. Too distracted by his own injuries, he had confused them with the girl's and then when Qui-Gon influenced her. . . . it was a fairly predictable accident. No, a youngling mistake.

"You over-did it," Obi-Wan muttered grumpily.

Qui-Gon laughed as he put his arm over Obi-Wan's shoulders and they walked together up the center aisle between the seats toward the rescuers waiting at the open forward ramp.

**///\\\///\\\/// END \\\///\\\///\\\**

This story is a test of a twitterable format. It was first posted on tf.n: 16-August-2009

**Disclaimer: **All characters and situations belong to George and Lucasfilm; I'm just playing in their sandbox.


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